


Say What?

by falsteloj



Category: Young Dracula
Genre: Coming Out, Community: lgbtfest, M/M, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:26:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsteloj/pseuds/falsteloj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the 2010 lgbtfest on Livejournal. The prompt was: #408 ~ Any teen fandom, any character, a character expects hir parents to be upset, and isn't sure how to deal with them being a little *too* supportive.</p><p>(I have a ton more YD stuff - you can find story summaries, etc, by clicking <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/512861/chapters/27201609">HERE</a>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say What?

"Just tell him you're gay."  
  
"Just tell him I'm gay," Vlad repeated incredulously, shaking his head. "Yeah, because that's a  _brilliant_  idea."  
  
Robin shrugged, not looking away from the computer screen, thumbs pummelling at the control pad as if his life depended on it. It summed it up, Vlad thought, the indifference. His entire life was about to fall apart and Robin couldn't give a toss.  
  
"You'll have to tell him at some point," Robin said, grimacing as the pixellated enemy advanced. "Might as well be now."  
  
"I can't," Vlad protested. He had kept it quiet for a very good reason: His dad would kill him.  
  
"You told me," Robin countered.  
  
That had been bad enough. Robin gaping at him as if he had just said he was growing a second head out of his armpit. If it weren't for the realisation that he was no longer a competitor for the attention of the female student body, Vlad got the impression Robin might still be giving him the cold shoulder, even now.  
  
There was a crash on the television and Robin threw the pad down in disgust, 'game over' flashing across the screen. He finally got Robin's undivided attention and he had to concentrate on keeping his mind on the issue at hand.  
  
Or, at the very least, something other than Robin's eyes.  
  
"It's simple, Vlad," Robin told him, slouching back against his pillows. "You either tell him or you get married. It's up to you." Robin grinned then, cheeks dimpling, "But, if you do, I have to be your best man."  
  
Vlad frowned. He hadn't even thought that far.  
  
Robin was oblivious.  
  
"Cos, if I'm best man, I'll have to sleep with the bridesmaid. It's tradition. An' she's bound to be a fit vampiress."  
  
And that, Vlad thought, decided it.

* * *

 

"Ah, Vlad, there you are!"  
  
Vlad cringed, but pasted on a false smile for the Count.  
  
"Don't do that," the Count admonished, "not when you pout so prettily. You don't want Adrianna to get the wrong impression, do you?"  
  
That was a perfect in, and he knew it. Vlad sucked in a deep breath. He was the Chosen One, the vampire destined to lead the entire race into a new age. And captain of the rugby team. The B team, anyway.  
  
He could totally do this.  
  
"Actually dad, I, er, wanted to have a word with you about that."  
  
"Not having jitters, are you?" The Count waved one hand dismissively, "You'll be fine once you're at the altar."  
  
Ingrid snorted in amusement, shaking her head as she turned the page of her latest copy of Gothmopolitan. Vlad ploughed ahead,  
  
"I was just thinking that, you know maybe, I mean – " He swallowed. "Don't you think I should meet her first? And, I'm not even a proper vampire yet. What if something happens? You know the law; she won't be able to remarry for decades."  
  
The Count stared at him in shock, as if he had never really seen him before. Vlad squirmed. His dad put a hand on his shoulder, leaning in close and speaking in slow, hushed tones.  
  
"I thought you understood, Vlad. That's the whole point. Your sister," he paused at this, waving an arm in Ingrid's general direction, "and her spawn are bleeding me dry. Money doesn't grow on headstones." The Count straightened up, eyes flashing. "Adrianna's dowry could secure her anyone. But, even if some unfortunate mishap should befall you in the blood mirror room," the Count grinned widely, "I'd still get to keep the money."  
  
Vlad didn't know what to say. Luckily the Count was happy to fill the silence, clapping his hands together.  
  
"And then we can get your sister married off and out of my castle." He wiped at his eyes. "It'll be the happiest day of my unlife."  
  
Ingrid was on her feet in an instant, fangs bared. "You've already tried that once. I am the Countess Dracula. I am not marrying some, some yokel from Trans-Siberia!"  
  
"You and your," the Count looked pointedly at the foot long coffin laid across the end of the table, "mongrel will do as I decree!"  
  
"Over my dead body!"  
  
"Exactly!"  
  
Vlad sighed, traipsing up to his room. He wouldn't get anything approaching sense out of either of them until morning.

* * *

 

"So," Robin prompted in their afternoon English lesson the following day. "What did he say? You're still here so it can't have been that awful."

Vlad shrugged as casually as he could, keeping his gaze on his exercise book. Robin wasn't fooled, raising one eyebrow, one step away from outright tutting.  
  
"You didn't tell him, did you?"  
  
"I tried," Vlad protested, "I really did. But he started going on about how much we need the money. And this morning he had another go about how it'll bring shame to the Dracula family name if I don't hitch up with someone suitable. He's going to go mad."  
  
"Vladimir! Robin!" Miss. Vickers' voice carried across the room, "You two had better be working."  
  
Robin bowed his head, making a show of writing something before leaning in closer to whisper, "Would it really be that bad if you did marry her? She is fit."  
  
"To you!" Vlad hissed, angry to feel the sting of tears burning behind his eyelids. He didn't want anything to do with her, or any vampiress. Most of the time he was convinced he didn't want anything to do with anyone but Robin.  
  
He glanced up to make sure Miss. Vickers wasn't looking. She wasn't, she was too busy trying to explain alliteration to Richard Price. Knowing Price as he did, there was a good chance that would keep her occupied all lesson.  
  
"Look, I'm sorry, alright? But I just don't know what to do."  
  
"You might like her once you get to know her," Robin suggested, although there was real concern behind the encouraging tone.  
  
Vlad shook his head. "She's two hundred years old. Her claim to fame is wiping out an entire battalion of men during World War One."  
  
"Really?" Robin asked. He didn't look as put off as Vlad thought he should.  
  
"Oi, Count," a voice sounded behind them, preventing any further comment. Vlad patted a hand to the back of his head to fend off the accompanying piece of screwed up paper catapulted his way. "Stop chatting up your boyfriend and pass me that glue."  
  
Vlad scowled at Davis but slapped the glue down onto his desk.  
  
"An' I'm not his boyfriend," Robin pointed out, expression sour.  
  
Davis looked at the boy next to him, the pair of them sniggering. "That's not what I've heard, Branagh."  
  
"Boys!" Miss. Vickers yelled, forcing Vlad and Robin to face the front once more. "How many more times!"  
  
Robin scowled but picked up his pen, finally doing some work. Vlad just stared at the blank page in front of him and wondered why he hadn't thought of it sooner.  
  
He had a plan.

* * *

 

"No." Robin shook his head. "No way. Not in a million years."  
  
"Please, Robin," Vlad pleaded. "Don't you see? This is the perfect way out of it. My dad already likes you, he's said so."  
  
"He's said he wants to drain my blood and leave my lifeless body for the ravenous badgers," Robin quoted. "It's not quite the same thing."  
  
"Come on," Vlad whined. "You did it for Ingrid."  
  
Robin couldn't deny that. He had barely known either of them and he'd happily donned fangs and face paint, letting his dad put him through all the courtship trials to save Ingrid from some half baked idiot from Trans-Siberia. He was Robin's best friend, the least Robin could do was pretend to be his boyfriend for a few weeks.  
  
Wasn't it?  
  
"That was different!" Robin flung his arms wide in exasperation, oblivious to the curious stares of the students trickling past them on their way home. "Ingrid is hot! If I do this none of the girls will even look at me."  
  
"They don't now," Vlad countered nastily, wanting revenge for the casual way Robin always compared him unfavourably to his sister. She would never look at Robin twice and everyone knew it.  
  
Robin narrowed his eyes, "They're just playing hard to get."  
  
"Well, they'll be jealous then, won't they?" Vlad changed tact, desperation colouring his tone. "If they think you've pulled me."  
  
"No," Robin shook his head, "they won't. Trust me."  
  
"I'm a good catch!" Vlad counted off his good points on his fingers, "I've got money, I live in a castle, I'm captain of the rugby team - "  
  
"The B team," Robin corrected, using his own fingers to counter Vlad's points. "You're a proper swot, you've got no dress sense, you still carry that briefcase to school. Basically, Vlad, everyone thinks you're a total loser."  
  
"I'd do it for you," Vlad said quietly, looking at his feet. He'd do anything for Robin.  
  
Robin sighed, running one hand through his hair. "Yeah, I bet you would."  
  
Vlad glanced up at him curiously but the other boy wasn't looking his way. When he turned to face him his jaw was set determinedly.  
  
"What's in it for me?"

* * *

 

"It's beautiful," Robin breathed, running one hand along the lip of the coffin. "Mahogany with ebony inlay, satin interior. Beautiful."  
  
"Yeah," Vlad pulled a face, wondering what Mrs. Branagh would say when she found it taking up all of Robin's floor space. "Great. So now it's time for your side of the bargain."  
  
Robin gave the coffin one last lingering look before straightening up, smoothing down the collar of his jacket and the creases from his t-shirt. "Right, come on then. Your dad should be awake by now."  
  
"What?" Vlad felt his heart pounding in his chest, his palms suddenly sweaty. "Just like that?"  
  
"Might as well get it over with," Robin shrugged.  
  
"Can't – " Vlad scrabbled for something to delay Robin with. "Can't we have a practice run first? We could tell your mum and dad."  
  
"What's the point in that?" Robin protested. "They won't care."  
  
Vlad thought of the way Mrs. Branagh had been cooing at baby clothes through shop windows in town the previous Saturday. He wasn't convinced.  
  
Robin read the uncertainty on his face. "I think I know my mam and dad a lot better than you do."  
  
"I just don't think they'll be very happy about it, that's all."  
  
"We'll see," Robin scoffed. "We'll see."

* * *

 

"Oh, Robin," Mrs. Branagh got up from the table and pulled him into a hug, "I'm so proud of you!"  
  
"We thought you'd never tell us," Mr. Branagh said, beaming all across his face.  
  
Mrs. Branagh pressed a kiss to Robin's hair, oblivious to the way he was struggling to get free. "We've always known, haven't we, Graham?"  
  
"We have," Ian agreed for him.  
  
"Everyone knew," Paul smirked.  
  
"Just geroff me!" Robin protested, squirming free.  
  
"Vlad," Mrs. Branagh turned her attention to him, "We're so happy for you. I bet your father is pleased too, isn't he? We'll have to have a little celebration. Do you think your father will be free this weekend? I could ring him now –"  
  
"No!"  
  
Everyone turned to stare at Vlad, silence falling. Vlad bit at his lip, feeling sick. Never had he been more aware of the differences between their two families. His dad would never react like this to the news. Never.  
  
"He doesn't know." Vlad scuffed the toe of his shoe against the tiled kitchen floor, stomach churning. "He – he wouldn't approve."  
  
"He's marrying him off to some bird from Romania," Paul chipped in. "Ingrid told me."  
  
Mrs. Branagh looked like she might cry. "I'm sure if you explained how you feel, Vlad. And," she touched a hand to Robin's shoulder, "once he realises you're with _Robin_."  
  
Chloe, who had been silent all the way through, shot Vlad an apologetic look,  
  
"I see your point."

* * *

 

"You can't change your mind now, Vlad," Robin told him testily once they were back upstairs in his bedroom. "I won't let you. Do you have any idea how bad my life is going to be from now on?"  
  
Vlad just looked at his hands, wringing them together.  
  
"I'll tell you. It's going to be really bad. Ian and Paul are going to take the mick out of me every single day. An' my mam and dad are going to tell everyone they've ever met in their entire lives how proud they are of their gay son an' his boyfriend."  
  
Robin's tone was getting increasingly irate and Vlad wished he'd never mentioned the idea in the first place. It had been utterly ridiculous, right from the very beginning. "People will forget about it," Vlad ventured finally.  
  
"Yeah, when I'm dead," Robin spat back. "The coffin was a good move really. It'll save my mam some money."  
  
"Don't joke about things like that!" Vlad demanded, fear thrumming in his veins at the idea of Robin dying. Robin gave him an appraising look then, dark and intense, making Vlad uncomfortable. Whatever Robin saw in his face was enough to drain his anger away however, and he dropped down to sit next to him on the bed.  
  
"You have to tell him, Vlad."  
  
The words were quiet but solemn and Vlad nodded miserably. "I know. And I will. But not tonight." He gave Robin a forced half smile, willing him to drop it. "I was supposed to be sleeping over tonight anyway. It's Saturday tomorrow."  
  
He had been sleeping over at Robin's every Friday for months. It was the only time his dad willingly let him out of his sight after dark. It was always hunting practice, or wedding preparations or, worst of all, rambling tales of the havoc he had wrecked in his own youth. Vlad felt guilty if he took his library books back a day late.  
  
Robin sighed. "Why didn't you ask Chloe to help you? She probably would 'ave thought of something really foolproof."  
  
Vlad met his best friend's gaze, his breathing sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet of the room. Robin was sat so close he could feel the heat of his thigh through his jeans and, when he inhaled, all he could smell was the scent of Robin's aftershave.  
  
"Why did you agree to do it?"  
  
He waited, heart pounding, for Robin's response. Watching a mix of emotions flit across his face and the way he swiped his tongue across his lips, getting ready to speak. He was just about to when there was a knock at the door, Mr. Branagh's voice muffled through the door.  
  
"Are you two decent in there? Can I have a word?"  
  
Robin shut his eyes for a moment, as if reigning in his temper before getting up and letting his father in. Mr. Branagh was blushing to the edges of his receding hairline, pressing a paper bag emblazoned with the label of the local chemist into Robin's hands, stuttering things like 'better safe than sorry', 'there's no rush' and 'if you have any questions, your mother's downstairs'.  
  
"You owe me so much right now, Vlad," Robin hissed the instant he was gone, his own cheeks burning brightly in embarrassment. "So much."  
  
Vlad just bit back a smile and nodded solemnly.  
  
"I know."

* * *

 

"Do you find it hard to sleep in these?" Robin asked into the darkness later on that night. Vlad smiled, cheek pressed against Robin's pillow, and tried to make out the outline of the coffin in the slivers of moonlight making their way around the curtains.  
  
"Yeah, it's a bit claustrophobic. You do get used to it though."  
  
He could hear Robin shifting around, the sound of scuffling, but was still shocked to feel the bed dip, Robin collapsing next to him in a tangle of limbs.  
  
"Shift over then, it's my bed."  
  
Vlad wished he could see Robin's face, to try and work out what was going through the other boy's head. Robin wriggled about, tugging at the blankets, and he felt him lay his head next to his own.  
  
"Do you want me to sleep in there instead?" Vlad offered, hoping desperately Robin would say no. He could feel Robin's breath against his cheek. If he were to turn his head they would be close enough to kiss.  
  
"It's alright," Robin told him, seeming to press still closer as he moved about, getting comfortable. "I know you don't like it."  
  
Vlad wanted to ask him what was going on, why they were suddenly sharing a bed. If it meant anything at all to Robin. Fear of what the answer might be kept him quiet and, by the time he'd worked up the courage, Robin was already snoring.

* * *

 

When Vlad woke up it took a moment to work out where he was. What the heavy pressure on his chest and the seeping moisture at his neck was. Then Robin shifted and he could breathe once more, reaching one hand up to swipe at the drool pooling along his collar bone with a grimace.  
  
"What time is it?" Robin groaned, stretching. "Is breakfast ready yet?"  
  
"How am I supposed to know? I'm not psychic!"  
  
"You've got a better sense of smell than me," Robin told him calmly, scrubbing at his eyes and clambering over Vlad in search for his clothes.  
  
The whole situation struck him as more than slightly surreal. Still, Vlad sniffed the air and nodded. "Bacon and eggs. Your favourite."  
  
Robin grinned at him, clapping his shoulder and handing him his shirt. "Awesome."  
  
Mr. Branagh glanced at his watch in mock shock when they got downstairs, folding his newspaper. "Robin, are you ill? It's not even midday yet!"  
  
Robin sneered in response and slouched into a seat, attacking the food in front of him with gusto. Vlad picked at his own breakfast, the thought of going back to the castle ruining his appetite. Mrs. Branagh noticed,  
  
"Everything will work out, Vlad, you'll see," she told him kindly. "Would you like us to have a word with your father?"  
  
"Make him see sense," Mr. Branagh added. "This is twenty-first century Britain, not fifteenth century Transylvania!"  
  
Vlad choked on a mouthful of bacon and Robin slapped him across the back. Hard. His eyes were streaming, coughing fit full blown, and Mrs. Branagh rushed to get him some water. Mr. Branagh gave him a concerned look and Vlad wished he could explain.  
  
"Just try telling my dad that."

* * *

 

"How long will we 'ave to keep it up for, do you reckon?" Robin asked as they walked up to the hill towards the castle. "Days? Weeks? Months?" He gave him a wide eyed look, "Years?"  
  
"No," Vlad shook his head. "I don't know. We'll worry about that when we get to it."  
  
Robin was silent for a few steps, and then the questions started again. "Will we have to hold hands an' stuff? You know, in public?"  
  
"Not if you don't want to." Vlad wished Robin would stop asking awkward questions. He wanted to enjoy his last moments of breathing.  
  
"I expect we'll have to go on dates, won't we? There's a new horror film showing at the cinema. An' we could get a burger afterwards."  
  
Vlad frowned at him, patience wearing thin. "Anyone'd think you  _want_ to go out with me."  
  
Robin shrugged, looking sheepish. "I just haven't had a girlfriend before." Vlad glared and he backtracked quickly, "Boyfriend. Whatever. I just –" Robin hesitated and Vlad watched him curiously, taking in Robin's uncharacteristic reticence to speak his mind. For a moment it looked as though Robin were going to say something serious but then a change fell over his features, and he was grinning widely instead. "It's just that I'd obviously be an amazing boyfriend. I've got to make sure everyone sees it."  
  
"Yeah," Vlad scoffed, walking the last few steps to the doorway and unlocking the front door, biting back an undignified squeal of shock at the sight that met him,  
  
"Granny Westenra!"

* * *

"Granny Westenra," Vlad tried again, hoping his tone was less horrified this time around, "What are you doing here?"  
  
The old vampiress pursed her lips, glaring down her hooked nose at him. "I'm here to make sure you don't mess things up! I had to pull a lot of strings to get this marriage arranged. Even with your title, you're still," she paused, sweeping a disgusted look over him, "you."  
  
"He is captain of the rugby team," Robin offered.  
  
Granny Westenra looked, if possible, even more revolted. "What is this? It had better be dinner."  
  
Robin blanched and Vlad took a step closer to him, protectively, he thought with a hint of pride. "This is Robin. He's my best friend."  
  
"It just gets worse!" Granny Westenra complained, but gestured for the two of them to sit at the dining table. Vlad looked around hopefully for his father, trying to catch Ingrid's eye for help. She just smirked at him in obvious amusement.  
  
"Right, well then," Granny Westenra started, sitting rigidly straight in the chair opposite Vlad, "let's start at the beginning. Do you know how to entertain a vampiress?"  
  
Vlad felt a blush work its way down his neck, and shifted uncomfortably. "We watched a video on it once. And we learned about it in biology."  
  
Ingrid started laughing. "Don't be so repulsive! She means are you accomplished, zombie snot? Can you sing, dance, play games? Call of Duty doesn't count."  
  
"Oh, er," Vlad floundered, "I'm pretty good at Sluedo."  
  
Granny Westenra did not look impressed.  
  
"How about your torture skills? When was the last time you flayed a man to within an inch of his life?"  
  
"Er – "  
  
"No, nevermind," Granny Westenra shook her head. "Still, seeing as you've brought along your little friend, you can practice on him. Ingrid! Be a dear and fetch me my thumbscrews."  
  
"Th-thumbscrews?" Robin squeaked.  
  
"I don't think that's really necessary, Granny," Vlad stuttered.  
  
"Oh, go on," Ingrid encouraged, setting the contraption down on the table in front of him. "I've always wanted to see Branagh writhing in agony."  
  
"Is that the time!" Robin interrupted, stumbling to his feet, chair clattering noisily behind him. Come on Vlad, we'll miss that film if we don't hurry. That one with all the guts and gore you like so much."  
  
"Yeah!" Vlad latched on to the topic gratefully. "That'll be brilliant practice." He backed towards the door. "Tell dad I'll have a go at biting tomorrow night."  
  
His heart rate didn't return to something approaching normal until they were clear of the driveway and halfway down the hill.

* * *

 

"I haven't actually got any money on me," Vlad apologised once they were in town. "But I don't mind if you still want to go. I can go to the park."  
  
Robin gave him a scolding look, "Vlad, don't be such an idiot. I know it's difficult for you." Vlad glared, but Robin just carried on, "I said I'd take you on a date, didn't I?"  
  
"Yeah," Vlad conceded. "But I thought you were taking the mick."  
  
"An' this is the thanks I get," Robin complained in a world weary tone.  
  
The film was as disgusting as he had known it would be; blood and guts and people getting decapitated left, right and centre. But Robin kept up a running commentary all the way through, pointing out the continuity errors and laughing at the over blown death sequences.  
  
Once, when he jumped at a particularly gruesome shot of carnage, Robin laughed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, telling him not to be such a baby. When the scene finished he didn't remove it and Vlad leaned against him, flicking popcorn into his hair in retaliation and steadfastly refusing to think past the end of the picture.  
  
Afterwards Robin was true to his word and took him to the nearest fast food joint, doing his best to ignore the sniggering they earned from a group of their classmates sat in the corner.  
  
"I saw your brother earlier, Branagh," Richard Price smirked at them, glancing back at his friends to make sure they were watching. "You've been lying to us, about you an' him." Price sneered at Vlad then, and Vlad found himself dropping his gaze. Robin would never forgive him for this.  
  
Instead of arguing back, as Vlad had been expecting, Robin looked Price up and down impassively. "Yeah. What of it?"  
  
Price looked about as shocked as Vlad felt. "What, you ain't denying it? Count's your boyfriend?"  
  
Vlad startled at the feel of warm fingers entwining with his own, looking wide eyed from their newly linked hands to Price's expression of disbelief. He could empathise.  
  
"Yeah, he is. Now shove off."  
  
With that Robin took the food from the counter and dragged Vlad towards the door,  
  
"Quick, before he smashes our faces in!"

* * *

 

"You didn't have to say that to him," Vlad said later, when they were sat on the swings in Stokely park, eating. Robin turned to look at him, the chains creaking and Vlad smiled. "But I'm really glad you did. Thanks."  
  
"It's alright," Robin shrugged, although Vlad could see the hint of a blush in his pale cheeks. "Next time he's threatening to kick my face in I'll send him your way."  
  
"I'm being serious, Robin."  
  
"So am I."  
  
Vlad shook his head and carried on eating, watching as Robin scuffed his feet back and fore with the motion of the swing. Mr. Branagh always joked that was why they never took Robin anywhere; he ate like a pig then fidgeted and complained for the rest of the evening. Vlad was sure he wouldn't have long to wait for the latter.  
  
"Did you have a good time tonight?" Robin asked suddenly, carefully avoiding his gaze. "Apart from Price, like."  
  
"Yeah." He could say more, Vlad thought. How great it had been to have Robin's undivided attention, and how it had felt to have his arm wrapped around him. But he didn't want to freak Robin out so he all he said was, "Why?"  
  
"See, that's what I don't understand," Robin said as if he hadn't heard his question. "I'm not that bad. Why am I always everyone's last resort?"  
  
Before Vlad could answer the other boy was on his feet, hands pushed into his pockets as he strode towards the gate. Vlad scurried to catch up with him, pausing only to dump their rubbish into the nearest bin.  
  
"Hey, wait up!" He demanded breathlessly as he fell into step beside Robin. "What was all that about?"  
  
"Nothing," Robin snapped but his voice sounded choked. Vlad decided he wasn't going to let it lie.  
  
"You've never been my last resort," Vlad told him stubbornly. "You're my best mate."  
  
"Only because you don't know anyone else," Robin countered, biting at his lip. "If you'd met Jonno first you'd have been best friends with him."  
  
"Yeah," Vlad grinned, trying to lighten the mood, "and just think, I wouldn't even have to worry about my best capes going missing."  
  
Robin didn't laugh.  
  
Vlad felt sick. This wasn't like Robin. Robin bragged and boasted and bluffed, that was the sort of person he was. For him to be so serious there had to be something wrong. "I'm not laughing at you. I really appreciate your help."  
  
"Yeah, I know," Robin said stiffly. "Just forget I said anything."  
  
They had passed Robin's street now and Vlad was tempted to tell Robin he didn't need to be walked home; he was a big boy now. One look at Robin's face convinced him to keep his mouth shut.  
  
The last thing he wanted was to make the situation any worse.

* * *

 

"Right, well," Robin murmured when they reached the castle door, "I'll be off then."  
  
"Robin," Vlad called, reaching one hand out to stop him. Robin eyed it up where it rested against his forearm and Vlad swallowed thickly, forcing himself to ignore it and keep talking. "Why don't you just tell me what's wrong? If it's about Price I'll – I'll tell everyone you were joking."  
  
"It's not about Price."  
  
Vlad waited expectantly, hyper aware of the fact Robin had yet to shrug his hand away. Robin looked out into the middle distance, eyes suspiciously bright.  
  
"I got into bed with you last night. An' I put my arm round you at the pictures. You haven't even said anything about it."  
  
"What did you want me to say about it?" Vlad asked, frowning. He had no idea what Robin was trying to get at. He wasn't about to make Robin stop doing it, not even if it did sting to know the other boy hadn't meant it in the way he wanted him to.  
  
His hand was finally brushed aside at that, Robin scowling. "If you can't see how fit I am, then I don't even want to be with you. I wouldn't have agreed if I'd known you weren't serious."  
  
"But what about all the hot girls?" Vlad questioned, unable to stop himself from breaking into a huge gormless grin. It was too good to be true. "What will they think?"  
  
Robin studied his face then, a smile slowly transforming his own maudlin expression. "They had their chance, didn't they?"  
  
"They won't get another one," Vlad told him confidently, belying the frantic pounding of his heart against his ribcage. The fluttering in his stomach when Robin slid one hand along his jaw, pushing his fingers into his hair as he pressed their lips together. Vlad pushed closer Robin deepened the kiss, the wet slick of tongue against his own making him feel light headed.  
  
He curled his own fingers into Robin's hair, doing his best to copy Robin, angling his head so he could kiss him with greater ease. Robin clutched him still tighter, showing no signs of coming up for air. In fact were it not for the impatient coughing behind them Vlad felt as if he could kiss Robin all night.  
  
The cough came again and this time it registered properly, Vlad breaking away guiltily.  
  
"What is going on here?"  
  
"Granny Westenra," Vlad grimaced.  
  
"Where have you been?"  
  
Vlad cringed, eyeing up the dead rabbit hanging from the Count's fingers. Missing biting practice would not have made him any more popular. "Dad."  
  
"Branagh? You must be desperate."  
  
"Ingrid," Vlad glared. Even the baby was gurgling happily at him. She took after her mother.  
  
The Count looked murderous, "What would Adrianna say if she could see you swapping spit with this peasant?"  
  
"It's not what it looks like," Vlad protested, even as Robin scowled at him. "I was, I mean we were, I mean – "  
  
"You mean you're turning down the most desirable vampiress on the circuit in favour of that halfwit." Ingrid raised an eyebrow, "I never credited you with a backbone. I must say I'm impressed."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, girl," Granny Westenra snapped, "Even your brother couldn't be that stupid."  
  
That was just a step too far, Vlad thought angrily, noticing the way Robin looked at his feet. He wasn't stupid, and Robin wasn't a halfwit. Most of the time anyway.  
  
"No, she's right. I'm not going to marry Adrianna. Not now, not ever. I don't like girls." There, he'd said it. Robin put a hand on his shoulder and he shot him a grateful smile, waiting for his family's reaction.  
  
Granny Westenra pulled a face, "Adrianna is not a girl, you dribbling imbecile. She is a blue blooded vampiress."  
  
"Well," Vlad retorted, "I don't like blue blooded vampiresses either." Granny Westenra looked like she wouldn't mind wringing his neck. Ingrid just smirked, watching the scene unfold as close to happily as she ever got. "Dad," he prompted reluctantly after a long moment of silence, "are you mad at me?"  
  
"What?" The Count startled out of whatever reverie he had been lost in. "Mad? No, of course not. This is excellent news!" He shook his head, "You won't have to worry about some harpy getting her claws into you, telling you you're her one and only, only to leave you at the first opportunity for some mangy flea ridden werewolf named Patrick!" His voice had risen throughout the speech to end on a yell, and Vlad shifted uncomfortably.  
  
He didn't want yet another lecture about how awful his mother was. He knew.  
  
Granny Westenra 'hmmed' but made no effort to correct the Count. "It will make things easier, I suppose. Vampires have such lower standards."  
  
"Excellent!" The Count clapped his hands together. "That's decided then. First thing tomorrow evening we'll start looking for a consort for you."  
  
"But – "  
  
"No," the Count patted Vlad on the shoulder, "don't thank me now, Vlad. There'll be plenty of time for that." He led the way into the castle then, Granny Westenra following. Ingrid looked from Vlad to Robin and back again, smirking widely,  
  
"Better luck next time. Losers."

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, feel free to chat / hit me with prompts over on Tumblr [@serenwib](http://serenwib.tumblr.com/) or Twitter [@falsteloj](https://twitter.com/falsteloj). :)


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